


the strength to rise

by doubtthestars



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14145024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtthestars/pseuds/doubtthestars
Summary: Football breaks hearts a great deal more than people could.Woj deals with some of his ghosts.





	the strength to rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brampersandon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brampersandon/gifts).



> I'm sorry I barfed all my feelings over your perfectly nice team. The ill-advised ruining kinda took a left turn. I just want my trash son to be happy.

There’s no one to blame but themselves really. 

Wojciech might be a poor substitute for the real thing, but he doesn’t mind. Daniele wasn’t anything like his previous dalliances, so Woj counted it as growth. 

New him, new club, and a new teammate to make stupid decisions with. Lather, rinse, repeat. He’s not entirely sure how they fell into it so suddenly. From the start, Wojciech had gravitated towards Dani or maybe it had been the other way around. Sharing the bench, watching his back, it had all tumbled into some unspoken agreement between them.

Wojciech always managed to find the quietly fucked up ones, not obvious to the rest of the world. So maybe Daniele had a thread in common with the rest after all, but this time Woj wasn’t trying to fit all their jagged pieces together for a happy ending.

 

Sometimes, he leaves his gloves on when he touches Dani. It’s a cruel game to play, leaving his hand on his shoulder for too long--watching Dani swallow down a fraction of useless want, watching his eyelashes flutter in the split second of doubt but never disappointed. Woj is grateful for that. Daniele is still young, still new, unbearably transparent with his longing, but generous with his affection. 

“He’s young too.” Daniele points out. It’s not a conversation he meant to start. It doesn’t come out like Wojciech expects, not ugly, just warm yearning as Dani’s eyes trace the intimate space between Paulo and Gigi. 

“That’s different. He’s...Paulo.” Wojciech shrugs, frowning apologetically. 

Paulo is as eye-catching as his nickname.

It isn’t a comparison. Daniele is a good player, but he already lost the race by settling for second best. He doesn’t know how to tell him that. It’s more than being a star or the talisman of a team. It all ends in the same way: by ending.

 

Gigi’s birthday comes on a Sunday. 

There’s a luncheon that he doesn’t go to, because he still feels out of place, especially with Gigi’s eyes on him. He scrolls through the variety of well-wishes posted by the team and lingers on Daniele’s photo. Wojciech doesn’t look for the symbolism behind it. He invites him out for drinks and a date. 

Dani responds quickly: yes, I pick the place this time.

Even without the built in excuse of not having a match the next week, he knew sitting on the bench for two months had to be chafing enough to indulge a little with him. It still made him grin, because Daniele _chose_ him over anything else.

It had been a while since someone had made him their first priority. It felt nice for however fleeting it might be.

 

It’s Chiellini who makes an attempt at threatening him over Daniele’s honor. Giorgio maintains eye contact the entire conversation, looking stern before breaking out a genial headlock and slap on the back. It was only a few questions with a ‘treat him well’ thrown in, perfunctory but efficient. 

Wojciech was still thoroughly charmed by it. 

“Do you talk about me?” He teases. 

Daniele’s whole face turns pink and flushed as he shakes his head. It’s apparent they were both caught by surprise with the gesture. 

“No, He just worries...like a hen.” He licks his lips, nervous. Wojciech doesn’t reach out, but it’s a close thing, instinct clashing with careful intent.

“Don’t worry. No one’s going to ask _you_ about your intentions.” It was an odd thought because it was true. No one was going to step up to ask if his heart was in danger of getting broken. Maybe when he was younger, it would’ve been seen to, but Woj had only gotten the ‘don’t be stupid, don’t get caught’ conversation. Dani straightened up, a stubborn frown on his face.

“Maybe they should,” He replies. It’s touching. He deflates, going back to softer edges and kinder eyes. 

“Not that I would-I didn’t mean-” Wojciech stops him, touching his fingertips to his chest. 

“I know.” He says softly.

 

“Where would you go, if you had to leave?” Wojciech doesn’t listen to transfer rumours, but something precarious and profound in his chest went sideways when his eyes landed on Arsenal being interested in Daniele.

“I want to stay here. There is nowhere else.” 

He had held the same wish once, with the same belief he could see in Dani’s eyes. He wants to say, _you’re so young_ and _you shouldn’t pin your hopes on one mast_ but his throat closes up on the words. Wojciech doesn’t know what broke him more, having to leave Arsenal or knowing they didn’t want him anymore. 

Football had broken his heart a great deal more than any person could.

“I want to stay here too.” He whispers into the dark. Daniele draws him closer, his breath sending hot air skittering across his back. 

Maybe he learned his lesson, paid his due enough to stick the landing and win some peace of mind. Maybe he could stay and not be stifled by the shadow of greatness. It didn’t matter if Gigi wanted another year as long as Wojciech could be there as well.

“Sleep,” Daniele huffs out as if he knew Woj could reach his breakthrough in the morning.

 

March still has a snap of cold to it, but Wojciech finds himself humming during morning training. They had gotten through Tottenham and were steadily on top of the league table. He felt good, like everything was going right for once.

“You’re happy today,” Gigi laughs infectiously. 

“Yeah, I am.” His grin growing wider as he realizes it with some surprise. 

It’s just football on a crisp morning, nothing special nor remarkable. The others are grouped together loosely to pass a ball to each other before shooting at the net begins. The trainers setting up the area still. 

There wasn’t anything different than any other morning, but perhaps he felt a little more at home today.

**Author's Note:**

> i forgot how to english half-way through this and haven't edited or contemplated this enough to find my mistakes. also, fun pics to analyze [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/BeffnalA4pJ/?taken-by=daniruga) and [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/BefruSoFcz9/?taken-by=wojciech.szczesny1)


End file.
